Part 3 Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
1st February, 1917
Outside Épernay, France
It was a cold morning and Emil Holz was wondering what he was doing here. It was something that he’d found himself doing on cold winter mornings every year about this time. First in Verdun and now here. It was something that he didn’t want to make a habit of.
This year the birthday present sent by his mother had arrived early, several pairs of thick wool socks. The woman was a saint, when she wasn’t beating him up for joining the Army, He mused. It was the letters from home that worried him. The US Navy had plugged up the porous British blockade and there were starting to be shortages in luxury items as his father had said in the latest letter. Lang had run afoul with official censors with the columns he was writing for the University newspaper. Lang himself had been totally unrepentant, he said that it was proof that he was doing it right.
He also compared the two years. Rather than standing in the Meuse Heights he was standing in a farm field. Leaning on the finder of an Oberst’s car that they’d borrowed for a few hours in one of those cases of it being easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. However, unlike last year when he’d been with Walter Horst, a man who he’d trust with his life, he was with Hauptmann Conrad Bauer. A man who he had never been able to trust farther than he could throw him.
Winter had set in and the French offensive had stalled and the 2nd and 5th Armies had made headway again down the East road, even though there wasn’t much road left anymore, with the front lines stabilizing near Château-Thierry, probably for the next 5 minutes. It was the same cut and thrust movements that had become the preferred tactics of both armies in this theater. The idea of digging trenches and stringing barbed wire seemed quaint these days.
With both sides using attack aircraft, light machine guns and with the storm tactics developed by that Alpine officer who was apple in the Brass’s eye at the moment, a long straight trench just seemed to be asking for trouble. Everything they did that worked was copied and even improved upon by the Frogs days, even hours later.
Fox holes had become the order of the day. As had the MG16, the belt fed derivative of the Lewis gun that was growing increasingly common. Not that Spandau would ever admit that they’d copied the American design. Emil ought to know they had one in the back seat of the car next to a case of beer (Bauer said that you never knew when they’d have to buy off a squad of infantry) and a couple of Mauser broomhandle auto pistols.
“Of all the cars in the motor pool why did you have to steal a convertible?” Emil asked Bauer.
“It’s about style” Bauer said “And what are the odds that the Oberst will miss this car today?”
That was Bauer right there. All about appearances, but in a fashion that always seemed to work out well for him.
After they’d found the “tank” both of them had been pulled from the salvage detail and been reassigned to basically be the General’s gofers. As in gofer this, gofer that. Emil suspected that it was mostly to keep an eye on them in case they spoke about things that they ought not to. Bauer had simply transferred his questionable activities from the Somme battlefield to Reims. Emil had realized that he was the guy whose job it was to get the General whatever he wanted, no questions asked.
“Why are we freezing our butts off in a field in the middle of nowhere?” Emil asked.
“It's about creating opportunities.”
“Out here?” Emil said staring at the frozen chaff around them.
“You need to see the how there are opportunities in likely places” Bauer said “What do you know about me?”
“I don’t know” Emil said, brown hair, not particularly tall, well educated, snobbish, polished accent “Typical Prussian officer.”
“You mean an obnoxious toff with stick up my ass” Bauer said in a radically different accent that was back alley Berlin “What if I told you it was as much a scam as a piece of the true cross.”
It was an old joke that there were enough fake pieces of the true cross floating around Europe to build Noah’s ark several times over.
“My mother is the Madam of one of the most exclusive brothels in Berlin” Bauer said “She taught me from an early age on how to blend into the world of the toffs.”
“What’s that got to do with me?”
“Give you an infantry company and point you in the right direction and you’d conquer the world” Bauer said “Sit you down at a formal dinner and you don’t know which fork to use.”
“Yeah so” Emil said “A fork is a fork.”
“That’s exactly my point” Bauer said “I can fake it but it’s a bit late for you in the regard. When I asked Stoltz about you…”
Emil rounded on Bauer with surprising speed “You did what?”
“He said that you are honest to a fault, loyal to your friends and usually pay your debts” Bauer stated. If Bauer was bothered by Emil being half a head taller than him and was staring down at him few just a few inches away he didn’t show it.
That was when the sound of aircraft engines could be heard in the distance. “There are some associates of mine who I think you should meet” Bauer said “And I’d prefer that you back down before they see you in my face.”
Emil stepped back and stood there staring at the sky in the direction of the engines as they grew closer. Bauer grabbed a flared gun off the dashboard of the car and fired it up into the air. “You might not like it but I always check out the people I work with” Bauer said “The last thing I need is to get stuck with a well-connected marionette who can’t be gotten rid of, it’s politics Herr Holz and that’s the level you’ve reached.”
“Still though, Stoltz?” Emil asked disgustedly.
Bauer just shrugged. By now the sound of engines was deafening.
There were three airplanes circling the field. One was a dark grey recon/bomber of the sort that was a familiar sight overhead where ever the Army was operating. The other two were scouts, one painted a brilliant crimson, the other red with green wings and nose. As the airplanes rolled to a stop at the far side of the field. Bauer turned to Emil and said “You ought to be happy, you’re about to meet a fellow knight, Holz.”
Bauer went about introducing him to the three pilots and the gunner. Hauptmann Manfred von Richthofen and Lieutenant Kurt Wolff where the two from the scout planes. Feldwebel Georg Simon was the one who’d flown the recon plane with Gefreiter Johan Schultz, the gunner.
They were what was expected of pilots, not particularly large men. Emil knew that von Richthofen was a former cavalry officer and they tended to be on the small side anyway. Wolff was tall, but extremely thin. It was Johan who stood out and not just because he was enlisted. Emil wondered how he fit in the rear cockpit of the recon plane, not because he was particularly big, just broad, like a plow horse.
After the greetings, Bauer had taken them aside to talk while Schultz worked. He was hauling crates out of the recon plane one handed. Then when he started loading the car he’d moved the pistols to the front seat. It was when Schultz took the MG16 out of the backseat he handled it like Emil might handle a Mauser rifle, he was one of the most physically powerful man that Emil had ever encountered. “When can we get some of these, Sir” He called out to Richthofen.
“I’m working on that Schultz” Richthofen said back.
“That’s Jasta 2’s renaissance man over there” Wolff said “Scholar, athlete and mechanic.”
“Wasn’t he supposed to represent Germany at the Olympics last year if it hadn’t gotten cancelled?” Bauer asked “Wrestling?”
“Yes” Richthofen said “Now quit stalling, you got what we came for.”
“Right here” Bauer said handing Richthofen a folder. The pilot flipped it open and as he read the material his face took on a tight smile that raised the hairs on the back of Emil’s neck.
“This is less than a day old? Richthofen asked.
“Yes” Bauer said.
Richthofen clapped his hands like a child on Christmas morning. “Time to go!” He yelled running towards the airplanes.
Emil watched as Schultz started the engines of the airplane with well-practiced swings of the propellers. That explained why they’d brought a mechanic. Then they were gone, the sound of the airplanes fading in the distance.
“What was that all about?” Emil asked.
“Remember what I told you about creating opportunities” Bauer said “Manfred von Richthofen has been hunting this British ace for months, his commanding officer prohibited him from continuing the hunt last year. But then Oswald Boelcke got promoted and Richthofen got his own Jasta. The hunt was back on until Richthofen discovered that the high and mighty in Wunsdorf and Berlin had decided that his obsession was going to get him killed. Every intelligence officer in the Army got the memo that giving Richthofen any information relating to Lanoe Hawker was verboten.”
“That was what you just gave to him?” Emil asked.
“Yep” Bauer said “And got a whole bunch of goodies for the General’s table in return.”
“I get that” Emil said “But why did you think it was so important that I meet them?”
“Because they are the future.”
1st February, 1917
Outside Épernay, France
It was a cold morning and Emil Holz was wondering what he was doing here. It was something that he’d found himself doing on cold winter mornings every year about this time. First in Verdun and now here. It was something that he didn’t want to make a habit of.
This year the birthday present sent by his mother had arrived early, several pairs of thick wool socks. The woman was a saint, when she wasn’t beating him up for joining the Army, He mused. It was the letters from home that worried him. The US Navy had plugged up the porous British blockade and there were starting to be shortages in luxury items as his father had said in the latest letter. Lang had run afoul with official censors with the columns he was writing for the University newspaper. Lang himself had been totally unrepentant, he said that it was proof that he was doing it right.
He also compared the two years. Rather than standing in the Meuse Heights he was standing in a farm field. Leaning on the finder of an Oberst’s car that they’d borrowed for a few hours in one of those cases of it being easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. However, unlike last year when he’d been with Walter Horst, a man who he’d trust with his life, he was with Hauptmann Conrad Bauer. A man who he had never been able to trust farther than he could throw him.
Winter had set in and the French offensive had stalled and the 2nd and 5th Armies had made headway again down the East road, even though there wasn’t much road left anymore, with the front lines stabilizing near Château-Thierry, probably for the next 5 minutes. It was the same cut and thrust movements that had become the preferred tactics of both armies in this theater. The idea of digging trenches and stringing barbed wire seemed quaint these days.
With both sides using attack aircraft, light machine guns and with the storm tactics developed by that Alpine officer who was apple in the Brass’s eye at the moment, a long straight trench just seemed to be asking for trouble. Everything they did that worked was copied and even improved upon by the Frogs days, even hours later.
Fox holes had become the order of the day. As had the MG16, the belt fed derivative of the Lewis gun that was growing increasingly common. Not that Spandau would ever admit that they’d copied the American design. Emil ought to know they had one in the back seat of the car next to a case of beer (Bauer said that you never knew when they’d have to buy off a squad of infantry) and a couple of Mauser broomhandle auto pistols.
“Of all the cars in the motor pool why did you have to steal a convertible?” Emil asked Bauer.
“It’s about style” Bauer said “And what are the odds that the Oberst will miss this car today?”
That was Bauer right there. All about appearances, but in a fashion that always seemed to work out well for him.
After they’d found the “tank” both of them had been pulled from the salvage detail and been reassigned to basically be the General’s gofers. As in gofer this, gofer that. Emil suspected that it was mostly to keep an eye on them in case they spoke about things that they ought not to. Bauer had simply transferred his questionable activities from the Somme battlefield to Reims. Emil had realized that he was the guy whose job it was to get the General whatever he wanted, no questions asked.
“Why are we freezing our butts off in a field in the middle of nowhere?” Emil asked.
“It's about creating opportunities.”
“Out here?” Emil said staring at the frozen chaff around them.
“You need to see the how there are opportunities in likely places” Bauer said “What do you know about me?”
“I don’t know” Emil said, brown hair, not particularly tall, well educated, snobbish, polished accent “Typical Prussian officer.”
“You mean an obnoxious toff with stick up my ass” Bauer said in a radically different accent that was back alley Berlin “What if I told you it was as much a scam as a piece of the true cross.”
It was an old joke that there were enough fake pieces of the true cross floating around Europe to build Noah’s ark several times over.
“My mother is the Madam of one of the most exclusive brothels in Berlin” Bauer said “She taught me from an early age on how to blend into the world of the toffs.”
“What’s that got to do with me?”
“Give you an infantry company and point you in the right direction and you’d conquer the world” Bauer said “Sit you down at a formal dinner and you don’t know which fork to use.”
“Yeah so” Emil said “A fork is a fork.”
“That’s exactly my point” Bauer said “I can fake it but it’s a bit late for you in the regard. When I asked Stoltz about you…”
Emil rounded on Bauer with surprising speed “You did what?”
“He said that you are honest to a fault, loyal to your friends and usually pay your debts” Bauer stated. If Bauer was bothered by Emil being half a head taller than him and was staring down at him few just a few inches away he didn’t show it.
That was when the sound of aircraft engines could be heard in the distance. “There are some associates of mine who I think you should meet” Bauer said “And I’d prefer that you back down before they see you in my face.”
Emil stepped back and stood there staring at the sky in the direction of the engines as they grew closer. Bauer grabbed a flared gun off the dashboard of the car and fired it up into the air. “You might not like it but I always check out the people I work with” Bauer said “The last thing I need is to get stuck with a well-connected marionette who can’t be gotten rid of, it’s politics Herr Holz and that’s the level you’ve reached.”
“Still though, Stoltz?” Emil asked disgustedly.
Bauer just shrugged. By now the sound of engines was deafening.
There were three airplanes circling the field. One was a dark grey recon/bomber of the sort that was a familiar sight overhead where ever the Army was operating. The other two were scouts, one painted a brilliant crimson, the other red with green wings and nose. As the airplanes rolled to a stop at the far side of the field. Bauer turned to Emil and said “You ought to be happy, you’re about to meet a fellow knight, Holz.”
Bauer went about introducing him to the three pilots and the gunner. Hauptmann Manfred von Richthofen and Lieutenant Kurt Wolff where the two from the scout planes. Feldwebel Georg Simon was the one who’d flown the recon plane with Gefreiter Johan Schultz, the gunner.
They were what was expected of pilots, not particularly large men. Emil knew that von Richthofen was a former cavalry officer and they tended to be on the small side anyway. Wolff was tall, but extremely thin. It was Johan who stood out and not just because he was enlisted. Emil wondered how he fit in the rear cockpit of the recon plane, not because he was particularly big, just broad, like a plow horse.
After the greetings, Bauer had taken them aside to talk while Schultz worked. He was hauling crates out of the recon plane one handed. Then when he started loading the car he’d moved the pistols to the front seat. It was when Schultz took the MG16 out of the backseat he handled it like Emil might handle a Mauser rifle, he was one of the most physically powerful man that Emil had ever encountered. “When can we get some of these, Sir” He called out to Richthofen.
“I’m working on that Schultz” Richthofen said back.
“That’s Jasta 2’s renaissance man over there” Wolff said “Scholar, athlete and mechanic.”
“Wasn’t he supposed to represent Germany at the Olympics last year if it hadn’t gotten cancelled?” Bauer asked “Wrestling?”
“Yes” Richthofen said “Now quit stalling, you got what we came for.”
“Right here” Bauer said handing Richthofen a folder. The pilot flipped it open and as he read the material his face took on a tight smile that raised the hairs on the back of Emil’s neck.
“This is less than a day old? Richthofen asked.
“Yes” Bauer said.
Richthofen clapped his hands like a child on Christmas morning. “Time to go!” He yelled running towards the airplanes.
Emil watched as Schultz started the engines of the airplane with well-practiced swings of the propellers. That explained why they’d brought a mechanic. Then they were gone, the sound of the airplanes fading in the distance.
“What was that all about?” Emil asked.
“Remember what I told you about creating opportunities” Bauer said “Manfred von Richthofen has been hunting this British ace for months, his commanding officer prohibited him from continuing the hunt last year. But then Oswald Boelcke got promoted and Richthofen got his own Jasta. The hunt was back on until Richthofen discovered that the high and mighty in Wunsdorf and Berlin had decided that his obsession was going to get him killed. Every intelligence officer in the Army got the memo that giving Richthofen any information relating to Lanoe Hawker was verboten.”
“That was what you just gave to him?” Emil asked.
“Yep” Bauer said “And got a whole bunch of goodies for the General’s table in return.”
“I get that” Emil said “But why did you think it was so important that I meet them?”
“Because they are the future.”
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